


The Taste of Ashes Under the Moon

by Analinea



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bromance, I don't have my cat to tag for me today, I just took a scene from it, Kidnapped Stiles, Kinda, Non-Graphic Violence, Rurouni Kenshin AU, Scott to the rescue, Shame, and ran with it, evil witch is evil, or pre-relashionship, spell, thoughts about True Alpha status
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-09 01:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7780852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Analinea/pseuds/Analinea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles gets kidnapped by a crazy witch, and Scott would do anything to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Taste of Ashes Under the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> I just watched (again) the Rurouni Kenshin (2012) movie, which I think you can totally watch without reading the manga, so GO FOR IT IT'S AWESOME! Anyway, my mind puts Teen Wolf in approximately anything these days, and surprisingly this time it wasn't Sterek!  
> Title comes from an uncorrect quote from the manga, about the taste of sake. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Scott never said it out loud, but there's this unspoken truth that he would never kill, if he has a choice. No one in the Pack will, obviously, but the rules always seemed a little more strict for him.

He's a True Alpha: it means he didn't have to kill to attain the Alpha status. If at first this rule was an idea brought by his Manichean idea of the world, now he feels like it's something he has to live by, no matter the nuances he started to see.

He's not perfect, he knows it. He made mistakes in the past, because at some point he forgot that there are things that are as bad as killing (using people unwillingly, making plans with an unnecessary secrecy, putting some people first and risking the life of others by doing so).

But he's trying to right those wrongs, to be better. He has responsibilities and people counting on him. He can't afford to make any of those mistakes anymore, he's not a child (he's still a kid going by age, but battles made them all grow up too fast).

So he's Scott, first True Alpha in years. His Pack is not conventional by any means, but it's his. His friends, his family. He can count on them as much as they can count on him. They balance each other out.

He's not naive, even if he looks like it. He always used that to his advantage, Stiles playing along to make people think he was the brain of every operation. In the same way, Scott let everybody think that Stiles was the clumsy mess that he appeared to be.

Scott is too trusting though. He knows it, the Pack knows it, his mother always knew it. Sometimes he thinks he was made with that much trust to counter the suspicious nature of the rest of his friends.

 

The witch comes to town on a hot summer day, could be a Thursday or a Monday. At this point, no one keeps track of the days except to marvel at how much of them passed without a threat.

She doesn't come to them, roams the streets without any clear incident. Little things happen, but not enough that it could be directly linked to her. All they have is her faint scent, something like citrus and warm earth. It's what Derek recognized as magic.

Scott wants to meet her to let her explain her presence here; the Pack's opinions vary from “preparing a plan Z” to “let's run her out of town before she can try something evil”. Scott goes with the first option, going to Deaton for advice and materials.

The vet gives him a small vial containing something green and smelling frankly disgusting. The look on his face is even more serious than usual. “This,” he says, “will cut her from her powers. Forever.”

Scott tries to ignore the voice at the back of his head that speaks of fates worse than death (losing those you love, part of yourself, being left alone in the world, hurting the ones trusting you) because he can't be the judge of that. He will not become the judge of that. When you start down that path where you get to decide what is deserving of death and what is not, there's not turning back. Where do you put the limits?

He never gets to meet the witch before Chris Argent comes to him with various reports about her actions in the past few years. Once Derek gets in contact with some other Packs across the the neighboring states, they have a good idea on who she is and what she wants, with cross references from supernatural and hunters alike.

Andrea Kinnon is a crazy, power hungry witch, that has the kind of ideas on werewolves that Gerard had. The best bet is that she wants to steal whatever power that makes Scott what he is.

She's either delusional or knows more about True Alphas than even Deaton. There's not much informations on the hows and whats, and if there ever were Terms and Conditions, Scott surely skipped them without reading a word of it.

Andrea seems to think the power can be stolen, like an energy that would fuel her magic. Deaton has doubts about that, seeing as it's a status Scott acquired without stealing himself. They don't even know if any malevolent act, killing including, would make it invalid and throw Scott back to being a Beta or an Omega.

The Pack makes plans to try and reason with her, make her leave, with contingency plans to trap her and...they're not sure what to do with her after.

But, of course, the universe has other plans in mind.

 

“So good of you to come, oh great Alpha,” the witch taunts Scott with a bow. He doesn't answer, has eyes only for Stiles slumped form, leaning against the Nemeton with his hands tied behind his back.

The call came an hour ago, telling him to come alone -she put up wards to warn her of anyone else approaching- to try and save someone precious. She punctuated her declaration with a shout of pain that sounded too much like Stiles.

Scott didn't hesitate a second, only called Derek to tell him to get Deaton working on the wards and the Pack ready to help as soon as possible. The only thing he could hope for was stalling by pulling a Stiles: talking until even she didn't know what she wanted in the first place.

“The silent treatments?” Andrea tuts with a disappointed face, because yeah, it turns out only Stiles can pull a Stiles, “Okay, so I'm gonna fill the awkward silence. This is very simple, Scott. I want your power, and you're going to have to fight me. But if _I_ can't have it, well. Not even you will.”

Her smile is crazy and it's probably the time for Stiles to make a Joker reference. But he's too busy trying to get out of the ropes around his wrists.

Scott understands perfectly what the witch implies: she will attack and he will defend himself, but if she looses she wants Scott to lose his True Alpha status. She wants him to kill her. She's ready to die if it means no one gets to have what she couldn't steal.

“I'm not going to kill you,” Scott grits out, his hand closing on the vial in his pocket. He needs to put it on his claws and injure her, that's it. But he would very much prefer if she wasn't aware of this plan.

Andrea starts to laugh manically. “But, Scott! You're a werewolf! You're going to kill someday, it's just a matter of time!” She pouts sadly, like she just told a child that Santa's not real.

Scott knows, he  _knows_ that it can happen. That one day maybe, that choice will be taken away from him. An accident or the only way to save someone else's life, and he'll end up with blood on his hands. Better him that anyone else, he thinks.

He can't put this on Derek, who's starting to heal from his guilt and anger, and seeing that violence is not the only answer. On Stiles, who's so sure he killed his own mother and that he's rotten inside. On Lydia, who already has to bear the weight of death everyday. On Allison, who still has nightmares about shooting teenagers.

Maybe that day he will stop being a True Alpha, like Andrea wants. Maybe he'll stop being an Alpha, even. Maybe not. Maybe it's a matter of cruelty, of intention, of enjoying the act. He hopes he's not yet at the point where he's forced to find out.

“I won't kill you,” he says again. She smiles mockingly.

“But we will fight.” She takes a step in his direction and he forces himself not to move. “And, you know, I'm not a very patient girl, so let's put a timer to our little party.”

She turns to Stiles and Scott's blood runs cold. He jumps on her, feeling the air move with that scent of magic, but when he's on her she just turns back and block his attack with one hand, like it's nothing.

“What did you do?” Scott asks around his fangs, getting away from her before she can hit him. And then he hears it, a choking sound. When he glances at Stiles, he sees his best friend laying on his side, trying and failing to breathe. His eyes are wide and filling with tears, body shaken with spasms of panic.

“What do you think of this spell?”, the witch asks as they're both starting to move in a circle, facing each other, bodies ready to attack. “Paralyzing of the lungs. I heard it's not the most pleasant death, but then I don't really know anyone who survived, so my sources might not be the most reliable.”

“Stop it!”, Scott growls. “I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt him!” He tries to ignore the way Stiles is shaking his head at the corner of his eyes. Scott can hear his best friend choking on words that can't come out.

“Oh but I can't!”, she answers with wide eyes. “There's only two ways to break the spell! Having a strong enough will , which never happened, like, ever. Or...,” she smiles, “You kill me.”

Scott looks over at Stiles, writhing in the dead leaves, eyes set on his best friend and begging him to not play the witch's game. The wolf closes his eyes less than a second. When he opens them again, it's to run to her with all the speed he can muster, claws at the ready. She laughs.

 

It doesn't feel like a panic attack. It doesn't feel like drowning either. It feels like- like dying. It's painful.

Stiles throat aches with every breath he can't take, his chest burns when his muscles desperately try to expend his chest. His head is killing him ( _it feels like your head's exploding_ ).

His thoughts are caught in a strong wind that keeps taking them away, throwing some at the walls of his mind again and again until it's all he can think. He can barely focus on the fight happening in front of him, can't really hear the hits and growls over the pounding of his heart.

Scott howls in pain, and Stiles gets back to the front of his head enough to panic even more, dread freezing the muscles that already feels on fire.

Scott is in danger. Scott, Scott, Scott will die because of him, and he can't breathe, he can't...he c- can't breathe. He can't even struggle against his bonds anymore, lack of oxygen making his moves slow and sluggish, weak. He's so weak he can't help his friend, his brother, can't even  _breathe_ .

Just as dark spots start to cloud his vision, the witch falls on her knees, hunched over an injury Stiles didn't see happen. He can't comprehend what's happening, just that Scott raises his arm, red eyes flashing in the darkness. It's the only thing Stiles can see clearly, and he understand with a sudden clarity.

Scott is about to kill someone to save him, and Stiles-  _no, no, no, he can't, he can't, he doesn't want to, shouldn't have to, he- me, he's doing it for me it's my fault, why do I ruin everything?_

Stiles would rather die than force Scott to do this, but it's the problem, isn't it? He's dying and that's why Scott has to become a killer.

Stiles would rather die, but he's almost dead already. He knows, he knows he would do the same to save his brother. Let the world burn if it means his best friend is safe. It's the last thing Stiles can think.

 

“Scott, stop!”, comes in a gasp, and Scott halts his move inches away from the witch's throat. The words are just out that there's the sound of a deep raw breath being taken, followed by painful coughs.

Scott glances at Stiles to see his body curled in a ball around the hacking that shake his sweat soaked frame.

“Scott,” Stiles says again when the fit subsides, his voice hoarse. “You can't do this, you can't do this for me, please,” and he starts sobbing. It sounds like his throat is being ripped from inside. He's too exhausted to utter another word, but Scott understands.

He turns back to the witch that is starting to raise to her feet, ready to attack again even with a broken and bloodied arm cradled against her. There's a dangerous glint to her eyes now that any humor is gone from them, leaving the crazy and the anger at seeing her spell being broken.

Scott takes a step back and quickly reaches inside his pocket. With one swift move, he dumps the content of the vial on the open wounds of her arm.

She keeps moving for a second, before she freezes in place, eyes open wide in terror. The scream that follows is not one of pain, it's one that speaks of a fate worse than death.

Scott turns away from her to run to his weakly coughing best friend. He helps Stiles sit up, cuts the rope that burned his wrists.

Just as the scream dies out, the rest of the Pack enters the clearing. He'll need help to support Stiles weight for the walk back to the cars. He doesn't realizes yet what happened; all he knows is that his brother broke this spell for him. Tonight, he didn't kill to save Stiles. Stiles beat death to save Scott.

 

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? I stopped there because I wanted a happy ending (as much as you can have with a one-shot about one fight), but whoever knows the original story know it ends on a little more--> bittersweet note (hover over the words to find out).
> 
> I'll bake you brownies and make rainbows for every kudos and comments :)


End file.
